


Énouement

by babybutterbeans



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 18:55:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4191192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybutterbeans/pseuds/babybutterbeans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Énouement - The bittersweetness of having arrived in the future, seeing how things turn out, but not being able to tell your past self."</p>
<p>Hawke survived the Fade and finally makes to back to Anders. Hawke thinks about his life leading up to that moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Énouement

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, terrible summary. I started this at about 1 AM, expecting to write less than 1,000 words. Well it's almost 4 AM now and here I am.
> 
> I saw an obscure word list on Tumblr and this one stood out. 
> 
> I changed some little facts, like the fact that Anders wears a favor similar to what Fenris wears if you romance him, because Anders totally should've had something like that in the game.

                Once again, it had felt like his world was coming to an end, but somehow, he survived.

                He couldn’t sleep. Anders had fallen asleep hours ago, curled up against Hawke like a cat, with his head resting on his chest. Garrett had gently stroked his hair, even long after Anders had fallen into a peaceful sleep. They hardly talked about what had happened while Hawke was gone, helping the Inquisition fight Corypheus. Hawke certainly hadn’t told him yet about the Fade. Anders had no idea how close he came to losing him.

* * *

 

                Hawke’s journey to Weisshaupt had been uneventful, but he found it unbearable. With the memories of the Fade still fresh in his memory, traveling alone left him vulnerable. He tried to force his mind elsewhere, to remember his happiest memories, anything to fight against confronting the horror he faced in the Fade. But no matter what, the memories became tainted, the Nightmare’s voice creeped in, reminding him of his worst fear.

                _“Anders is going to die, just like your family, and everyone you ever cared about.”_

That was the worst of it, Hawke thought, not knowing whether Anders was alive or not. When they were traveling together, before he joined Varric at Skyhold, they moved around often. That reassured Garrett, knowing that it was unlikely that Anders would be recognized and attacked. He knew that Anders could handle himself in any fight, but the fear lingered. Being unable to contact Anders made his days of travel seem longer and so much more terrifying.

* * *

 

                He didn’t stay at Weisshaupt long.

                He gave the Wardens there a report on what occurred at Adamant, and wanted to head out immediately, but they convinced him to stay for the night. It didn’t take much work to convince him; he’d barely rested during his journey there, and it was obvious.

                The next morning, he left quietly, without telling anyone that he was leaving or more importantly, where he was going. But first, he was able to send out a letter to Varric, assuring him he reached the fortress safely, and asked him to look into tracking down Anders. He knew that Varric didn’t care to know where Anders was hiding (since, after all, his home had been destroyed by him), but he had no doubt that Varric would help him.

                To Hawke’s delight, he received a reply four days later, at the tavern he’d told Varric he’d be waiting at until he heard back from him. According to him, a few of his contacts in Ferelden had seen someone who looked suspiciously like the mage wandering through the country alone, and Varric had even provided a few locations that seemed like likely places for Anders to turn up, taking into account his path put together from the locations he’d been seen before.

                Hawke packed up and moved on immediately. He _needed_ to see Anders.

* * *

 

                It was late, nearly midnight, when Hawke entered the dusty old tavern in a very forgettable part of Ferelden. It was nearly empty; not surprising, considering how late it was and how unlikely it was that this particular town received any considerable traffic. However, one person in particular caught his attention almost immediately; a single figure sitting alone, tucked away at a table in the corner. The person’s cloak obscured his face, which left Hawke panicking. Could it be him? His heart raced, but he stood frozen just inside the door. Then, carefully, the man reached out to pick up his mug, and Hawke instantly recognized the red cloth tied around his wrist.

                Slowly, Hawke approached him. He’d rehearsed this; witty one-liners he could say when he first saw Anders again, but suddenly, he couldn’t form a single coherent sentence in his mind. He was nearly at the table when Anders looked up, wary of the approaching stranger.

                He looked up with his most intimidating glare, prepared to put up a fight if the stranger turned out to be a Templar or anyone else who may recognize him, but slowly, recognition crossed his face.

                “ _Hawke_ ,” he managed to say, but it came out more of a sob that an actual word.

                He jumped out of his seat and threw his arms around Hawke’s neck, hugging him tightly. Hawke put an arm around his waist, pulling him even closer, while his other hand reached up to cradle the back of his head as Anders buried his face into his shoulders. He could feel Anders’ quiet sobs against his shoulder, and he felt his own tears beginning to fall, and all he could do was press kisses to the top of his head, and whisper softly in his ear.

                He was alright. _They_ were alright.

* * *

 

                Anders could see Hawke’s exhaustion. He quieted him with a kiss when Hawke began to tell the story of what happened during his time with the Inquisition, promising that he’d listen later, but for now, they both needed rest.

                But now, as Anders slept quietly next to him, Hawke couldn’t sleep. He could only watch Anders, his chest rising and falling with every breath. He looked paler than Hawke remember, and definitely skinnier than before. He knew that Anders wouldn’t eat properly while he was gone. He _rarely_ ate properly when they were together unless Garrett reminded him to. But watching Anders sleep, Hawke was reminded of what he still had.

* * *

 

                He remembered the fear. _All_ of it.

                The fear he felt when his father died, leaving him, his mother, Bethany, and Carver. He remembers the fear of running from Lothering, desperate to protect his family, and failing when the ogre killed Bethany. He remembers the fear he felt when he lost Carver, realizing how stupid he’d been to let Carver come with him into the Deep Roads, his heart breaking when he tells his mother. He remembers holding his mother, the only person he had left, and watching her die.

                He remembers the fear, and how at the time, it threatened to destroy him.

                He was just one man, how could he handle any of this alone?

                Fighting the Arishok, being named Champion of Kirkwall, suddenly thrown into a position of power and influence on a level he never wanted. Watching the man he loved destroy Kirkwall’s Chantry, throwing them into the middle of a war. He feared for Anders, knowing that he’d be hunted relentlessly for his crimes. But still, traveling with his closest friend and lover at his side, he felt safe, somehow.

                Then, Varric’s letter came. The letter explaining Haven, and how Corypheus burned it to the ground. He told Hawke to stay away, stay somewhere safe; he’d been there was Corypheus was destroyed before, he could help the Inquisitor on his own. Hawke had been through enough. But Hawke, stubborn as he was, knew better. He had to go to Skyhold. Anders tried to convince him to stay, but he understood. Hawke had to go. They shared one final hug, and Hawke began his journey to Skyhold.

                Everything was fine, with the exception of the Grey Wardens and their terrifying behavior and blood mages. But other than that, it didn’t really seem like much worse than what he’d dealt with in Kirkwall.

                Until the Inquisitor threw all of them into the Fade.

                The realization that they had physically entered the Fade was terrifying enough. Then there were the _spiders_ , the Divine somehow there and guiding them, the Nightmare’s taunts… Hawke was scared, and angry, but he pressed on. He would get through it. He always did.

                Then, he had to make a choice. He knew that staying behind to fight the Nightmare was his duty. They wouldn’t have even been there if it hadn’t been for him freeing Corypheus from his prison all those years ago. He was terrified as he told the Inquisitor to go ahead. He’d keep the Nightmare distracted. But Stroud stepped forward as well, saying that it was his duty as a Warden to do this. Hawke was just about to refuse, but didn’t get the chance.

                “Stroud,” the Inquisitor said softly, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

                He understood what she was asking.

                Hawke was sick with guilt at the bit of relief he felt as he followed the Inquisitor through the rift and back to Adamant.

* * *

 

                Hawke thinks about the worst days of his life, and he struggles to count them all.

                He remembers the days when he thought he’d never be able to go on, that the fear and sadness would simply consume him, leaving nothing but an empty shell of what he used to be.

                But he remembers the good things. At the time, he didn’t appreciate them as much as he should have.

                The games of Wicked Grace with his friends, trading jokes with Isabela, and occasionally explaining said jokes to Merrill. Seeing the always serious and broody Fenris blush when he’s had a _little_ too much to drink and Isabela whispers something particularly dirty in his ear. The feeling of Anders finally coming home after a long night at the clinic and crawling into bed next to him. He had never let himself truly enjoy those moments, as he was always too caught up in what would happen next.

* * *

 

                Hawke watches Anders roll over, his back now toward him. He follows, carefully wrapping an arm around the other man’s waist and snuggling up against to his back.

                _This is where I’m supposed to be_ , he thinks. _Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve suffered, has led to this moment._

                He wishes that he could return to those dark moments all those years ago and tell himself that one day, he’ll be snuggling in a room in some dirty tavern in the middle of nowhere with the man he loves, and he’ll be happy. He’ll be safe. He won’t be afraid, and for the first time in a long, long time, he’ll wish that this moment would never end.

**Author's Note:**

> I just needed an excuse to write cute Anders/Hawke stuff.
> 
> I should stop starting new fics when i still have that one series that hasn't been updated in months...
> 
> though i'm definitely looking for an excuse to write some f!hawke/merrill or merrill/isabela at some point, i just need to find a cute prompt or something. definitely an au prompt though. this is the first fic i've writted that isn't an au and it makes me nervous... 
> 
> anyway i hope you guys didnt think this was too awful <33


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